


Winter's Rose

by th3craft3r



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th3craft3r/pseuds/th3craft3r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of Robb/Margaery fics that I wrote :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remember?

She heard the rumors of course; of how he was betrothed to one of Walder Frey’s daughters and how he fell in love with a girl from the Westerlands who tended to his wounds. She heard the name of Jeyne Westerling from the lips of his own men, of how their King had fallen for her beauty and smiles… and seeing her in person, Margaery can definitely see the appeal. The girl was certainly beautiful with her chestnut curls flowing down her shoulders. It didn’t exactly help that in her own observation, the girl was prettier than her.

She sighed as she spared the man sitting beside her a glance. “You still love her, don’t you?” she whispered her question and was met by his sad blue-grey eyes, a perfect embodiment of the land they both rule.

“I would be lying if I tell you that I don’t.” he whispered back with an equally sad smile. “But you are the one that I married - you are my queen, **remember?** ” he asked.

“A pretty picture for an ugly truth.” she replied and tilted her head which caused him to raise his brows. “That we are two strangers, married to each other.” she explained.

“I am sorry.” he told her. “But don’t worry, I won’t dishonor you and our marriage.” he assured. “Given time, we may come to know each other and probably learn to love - like how it was with father and mother.”

“You and your Northern honor, Robb Stark.” she said as she looked him in the eye.

“You and your Southern games, Margaery Tyrell.” he replied and a smile forming on his lips, which she found rather enticing.

“Stark.” she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear. “Margaery Stark.” she emphasized. “We are married now, **remember?** ”

When she pulled back, they shared a smile of understanding and then when he reached for her hand to kiss, she was optimistic to believe that it is really possible for them to fall for each other and maybe he will forget about pretty Jeyne with her help.


	2. A Tyrell in Winterfell

As she opened her eyes, she felt the cold envelop her. She was lying alone in bed with the blanket pooled at her feet, leaving her naked as her nameday. The room was dark and a bit lifeless and dull. The only light came from a window pane that gave the overall atmosphere of the room an eerie feel to it. Everything looked different, the walls were granite unlike the marble ones back home. No wall decorations or even bits of trappings except for a painted direwolf above _their_ spacious bed.

She decided to get up and get dressed. She gathered the rest of her discarded clothing on the floor and then tossed them inside a wicker basket in a corner. She opened her trunk which contained her personal belongings and her dresses. She chose a green dress lined with gold and embroidered with roses. Whatever they call her, she was still a Tyrell before a Stark.

Before setting out, she combed her hair and decided to wear it loose. It was unusually cold and she shivered, she eyed the grey fur cloak that was laid at the other side of the bed. It was a gift to fight off the cold – which she really need to get used to.

Winterfell was large. And grey. And solitary. And cold just like almost everyone living within it – they paid little or no attention to her at all like she was out of place. _"And yet they will suffer me all the same."_ she thought when she recalled the events a day before.

After navigating the confusing corridors, she finally made her way to the great hall where breakfast was already served. Some of the plates were empty except the one at the head of the table where an auburn-haired man was seated.

* * *

He regarded her with a faint interest. She thought that his blue eyes were as cold his soul. Suddenly the fur cloak felt a lot heavier as she slowly made her way towards him. " _I am a rose, and I'll grow here despite the cold."_ she thought determined as she neared him.

He stood up and smiled at her. "Good morning, Your Grace." she greeted.

"Robb." He said as the girl greeted him. "We are married now. No need for formalities." he added as he pulled the chair for her. She sat down with a confused face.

For the past few days, he was watching her. Studying her. Worrying that she might not be able to adjust to her new surroundings and to the weather. He had given her a fur cloak to help fight off the cold. _"Why do southern maids must look so fragile?"_ he thought once.

He knows that she doesn't like him that much and the feeling was mutual. But like it or not, she was worth the prize to secure the independence of the North.

"It's been a long time since a Tyrell graced the halls of Winterfell." he told her to break the awkward silence.

"I guess it is." she said looking anywhere but at him.

Being married and all, they still couldn't look at each other straight. "I hope you're feeling well." he told her when he spied that she looked pale.

"I am quite well." she answered and her face colored slightly, intrigued by the sudden concern of her well-being.

"Shall we eat?" He questioned and made a gesture towards the food.

"I thought you were already done." she said.

"No." he answered shyly and her cheeks flushed a shade a red. "I told them that I will wait for you."

They went through the whole meal in silence, only interrupted when Grey Wind padded inside the hall and settled at his feet. She looked nervous by the presence of the large direwolf. There were glances shared but not a single word until, "Would you like to go for a walk outside?" he asked after they finished eating. "I'm going to the Winter Town, I thought I might get you acquainted with _our_ people."

She was clearly taken aback by the prospect for she stayed silent. "If you don't want, it's okay." he said.

"No, that would be nice." she said, her brown eyes giving off a hint of gladness. "I'll just get my boots." she added and offered him a warm smile, the first genuine smile.

* * *

After a few moments they were standing by the Keep's huge oaken door. He held out his hand. "Are you ready My Lady?" he asked.

"Margaery." she answered and took his hand in hers. A little gesture, but he thought they can start with that. They may not love each other just yet but he hoped that they will get there someday.

_… and winter always yields to spring._


	3. Golden Rose of the North

She remembers the very first time she had been there. It was a cold night. The wind brushed against her skin, ever so cold that made her hair stand on end and her whole body shivered. It felt like she was bathing in a frozen lake. She stood atop a parapet and marvelled at the sight before her.

_"So, this is the fabled Winterfell. Stronghold of the Starks."_ She thought to herself as she stared down below. The ground was white, covered in snow that was steadily falling. It was so different from her home. She wasn't accustomed to the cold of the North. She was a maid for summer and spring. She realized how much she missed home. The flowers of Highgarden is always in full bloom and the sun kisses her skin. Laughter, singing, music and feasts are always present.

But here in the North, it was cold. And always will be. Feasts were held only if there is need. Singing is not as frequent. Winterfell is a cold place. And also the people living within it. That was her first impression as she stared at them. Strangers. That's what they were.

It was her duty to further the interests of her own house. And so, a union with another powerful house was a prospect that her father... no... her grandmother couldn't let pass. She was to be married. A betrothal that was her duty. But not her choice.

"It's cold out here my Lady." A voice brought her out of her thoughts. When she turned around Robb was standing a few steps away. Grey Wind was behind him.

"How did you know I was here my Lord?" Margaery asked as she stared at the Young Wolf, the boy they are calling the King in the North.

"I searched." He said as he came closer. He removed his coat of grey furs and draped it over her shoulders. "You weren't at the banquet so I was worried. I figured you went to get some fresh air. Next time, you could tell me so I can go with you." he added then smiled at her.

Margaery nodded in reply but she felt her face flush just by looking at him. She was quite surprised that he came looking for her. The Starks were indeed honourable men. "Thank you my Lord. I'll let you know next time." she told him and she was truly thankful for the furs for it made her feel a bit warm.

"You shouldn't stay out here, You might catch a cold my Lady." Robb said and stood beside her. He gazed out in he distance. "Winter is coming." he said with a sad face but Margaery found that her betrothed was quite charming.

"It always does." She agreed. "As you Northerners are so fond of saying, Winter is coming..." she trails off and stared at him, brushing away some strands of her auburn hair from her face. She suddenly realized that her hands were brushing against his. "But I shall grow strong, my Lord" she adds and gave him a sly smile. Their hands clasped. Then Robb leaned closer.

"Call me Robb." he said with his own smile.

"And you can call me Margaery." she replied and gave him a grin.

Their lips met for the first time. Both hungry and passionate at first but soon it turned slow and sweet. As they pulled away, they held each other's eyes and smiled. Robb pulled her closer and enveloped her in a hug. Since then, Margaery never felt cold again as she leaned into his chest and listened to his wildly beating heart. She came to accept that it may have been her duty but she can also be happy with it.

They were married beneath the Heart Tree in the Godswood, and not by a sept as her grandmother insisted. Margaery felt a pang of lost as she shed her golden rose-embroidered cloak. But her heart also filled with hope as Robb draped the grey Stark cloak over her shoulders. From that moment, she was no longer Margaery Tyrell, but Margaery Stark - Lady of Winterfell and Queen in the North.

The feast that followed was unlike any other. All the Lords and banner men of the North had come and paid their homage. Her family was also present, accompanied by their banner men and other Lords of the Reach. Lady Sansa was so happy for them and sang them a song. Robb was glad that his sister has already healed. The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow was also present to give his brother and sister-in-law his regards.

"The King and Queen of the North!" Lord Umber raised his sword and the cry was taken up by all the others. That night, Winterfell was brought back to life.

Years later, they both stood at the same parapet gazing at the horizon. Margaery proved to be a good queen and adviser and she quickly gained the trust and respect of all the Northern Lords, her expertise in politics combined with Robb's brilliant military successes helped the North secure their independence. Daenerys sits on the Iron Throne with her nephew Aegon as her successor to rule the Six Kingdoms.

"I am glad that peace had finally come." Margaery whispered to her husband who was running a hand over her bulging belly. She was great with child and already seven months along.

"Yes, but it was a hard-won battle." Robb agreed. "And winter is still coming." he added with a worried face.

Margaery leaned over to kiss him. "Don't worry. Our sons and daughters will grow strong."

That was all Robb needed to hear as he cradled his wife with a contented smile. Both stared into the horizon as they looked forward to the future.

Together, the Young Wolf of Winterfell and the Golden Rose of Highgarden grew strong even the winter had come.


	4. Scent of a Rose

Thick trees blurred past her as she ran as fast as her feet can take her. Her heart pounded wildly against her chest and she was almost out of breath as she fled from her pursuers. She could hear screams of pain from afar but she never dared to look back.

As the cries of agony were but distant echoes, only then Margaery permitted her self to rest for a while. She slumped to the ground and rested her back against the trunk of a tree. Her breath came out like a mist in the cold air of the North. _"Waylaid by petty thieves… what are the odds…"_ she thought. _"Growing Strong."_ she repeated her House words in her head. _"I have to be strong. I need to survive."_ She tells herselfbut the only thing that was growing strong within her was fear. She's lost in the middle of a forest and all alone. For all she knew, her escort might as well all killed. Tears escaped the corner of her eyes and she began to sob.

The sound of snapping twigs causes her to clamp her mouth shut. Someone was approaching and her heart thundered again. Cold sweat was trickling down her face. Her impulses told her to get up and ran away again but she was so tired to move her legs, so instead she waited.

A man dressed in shabby clothes emerged from a bush a few paces away from her. He was holding a blunt knife on his right hand. "There ye are, ye little minx." the bandit said and grinned, showing rows of brown teeth that were rather incomplete. "Ye look like s'me lord's daughter. I bet yer father would pay us dearly for yer ransom." He continued as he stepped closer.

Margaery began to cry. It was like her whole body was trembling. "Please don't hurt me." she pleaded but the bandit stepped forward.

When the man was but two paces away, she heard a rustle of leaves and then a ferocious growl as a grey blur passed right in front of her. The bandit screamed as the beast tackled him to the ground and bit his hand off. He screamed in agonizing pain and trashed wildly at his assailant but the beast tore his throat.

Margaery could only watch in horror as the bandit screamed and then all went quiet.

The grey beast lifted it's head and turn back to Margaery. _"It's a wolf."_ she realized _"A really large wolf."_ Her hands started shaking again as the beast came closer and sniffed at her. To her surprise, it stopped then bowed it's head almost in reverence.

Margaery was unsure what to do but her hand suddenly reached out to the wolf. She warily patted it's head and caressed it's soft fur. The wolf came closer and nuzzled it's nose in her face before giving it a lick.

A whistle came along with a shout. "Grey Wind!" she heard a man's voice. Margaery tensed again as she heard the sound of hooves approaching. The wolf in front of her let out a howl that sent shivers to her spine.

"There you are!" The man spoke atop his horse as he emerged between two trees. He looked rather like a boy than a man… just around her age. The wolf let out a sound that sounded like a happy bark. "What have you got there?" he asked as he dismounted.

Margaery found the strength to stand up. It was weird that the boy's presence was somewhat comforting and nonthreatening.

"My Lady, what are you doing in the middle of the woods at this early hour?" He asked when he looked at her.

"I… I was running away…" Margaery answered as she stared back at him. He stared back to the lifeless body of the bandit. "We were waylaid by bandits." she added when she noticed his brows furrowed and remained silent.

"I'm sorry to hear that." the boy told him. "Don't worry, you're safe now. Grey Wind and I are here to protect you." he assured when he looked back at her once more.

Margaery somehow found his stare disarming but she collected herself. "Grey Wind? You mean the wolf? Is he your pet?" she asked.

"Well, he's not a pet… more of a companion really." he said. "And he's not an ordinary wolf but a direwolf." He continued as he mounted his horse.

Margaery looked at Grey Wind again in awe. It was the very first time she saw a direwolf. Grey Wind padded close to her and licked her hand and nudged her leg.

"Well, that's odd." the boy commented. "Grey Wind seems to like you. Normally, he just rips people's throats."

"Well that's comforting, Ser?" Margaery said sarcastically.

"I'm not a knight so don't call me Ser." he replied with a smile. Margaery thought he looked a lot good-looking when he smiled. "Now let's get you some place safe." he added and offered his hand to help her get up on the horse.

"Thank you." she said when she settled behind him and laced her arms in his waist.

"So, clearly you look like a Southron lady." he stated as they went riding ahead. Grey Wind was trailing beside them. "What business do you have here in the North?"

"I'm to be betrothed." she replies, feeling a warm blush in her cheek. "My Lord Father sent me here in advance to stay and get accustomed. But we were waylaid just this morning."

"Aye, the King's Road had grown dangerous. I'm glad you're safe." he said. "Hmmm.. your betrothal seems interesting."

"Well, thanks to Grey Wind." Margaery said. "What were you doing here in the woods, If I may ask?" she questioned.

"Well, beside saving a damsel in distress, I was hunting." He replied and laughed. "Who are you anyway?" he asked in return as they reached the edge of the woods.

"I'm Lady Margaery of House Tyrell." she replied rather proudly. "And you are?" she inquired.

"Well, what a coincidence that I happen to come across my future wife." he mused.

"I beg your pardon?" Margaery questioned, raising her brow.

"I'm Robb Stark." He merely said. "Let's hurry home Lady Margaery, it's getting cold and Winter is Coming."

"Stark?" Margaery asked in confusion but she felt warmth already spreading across her cheeks and her heart started pounding again. "Then you're?" she trailed off as realization struck her.

"No wonder why Grey Wind liked you… you do smell good." he remarked then laughed as their horse galloped away back to Winterfell.


	5. Small Council Meeting

The Small Council… well what was left of it had fallen silent when a servant hurried through the door and announced a visitor.

Lord Baelish smiled as he saw who the familiar beautiful brown-haired visitor was. Lord Varys merely raised his brows and kept a straight face.

"My Lords, may I present, Her Grace, Lady Margaery of House Tyrell." the announcement came and the servant promptly stepped aside.

"Stark." She corrected. "Lady Margaery of House Stark." she emphasized and the servant looked embarrassed by his mistake.

"Is that so?" Lord Varys asked, sounding rather intrigued but he stood up nonetheless and gave her a small bow.

"I'm married now." Margaery answered and ran her hand at her necklace that had a crest of a direwolf set upon a golden flower.

"So it seems you are a queen again." Littlefinger mused with a sly smile. "The Young Wolf must be so lucky to have you Lady Margaery." he added and bowed too.

"Honestly, I don't care about the titles anymore Lord Baelish and I truly love my husband because I married him by choice not by duty." Margaery said and walked over to sit at the right side of the new king's empty chair. "However, if you insist on formalities… I'm not a queen. I am _The_ _Queen._ " Margaery added with a simple smile.

There was a moment of silence.

"Please have a seat." The Queen said and indicated the chairs. "Forgive my intrusion in your Small Council meeting but my husband is otherwise occupied and entrusted me to attend in his stead…" Margaery trailed off. "So, shall we begin?" she asked.


	6. The Stark Envoy

The Great Hall of Highgarden was packed. Noble families from across the South and even from other parts of Westeros were in attendance, dragging along their young sons in hopes that they can secure an alliance with the rich and powerful Tyrells. Although, it seemed to Margaery that it was all for show. Her father had already decided a match for her with Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End and King Robert’s youngest brother.

Despite the act, she was forced to sit with her father on the dais beneath the huge green silk that was embroidered with the golden flower of her House. She sat there to welcome all the visitors and ‘take a look’ at the young gentlemen who were paraded in front of her. It all felt boring to her as she offered them her warm smile and nod her head politely. At the nearest table, she spotted her brother Loras was laughing and whispering with Lord Renly. Her other brother Willas was talking with some of the guests and Garlan was sitting with his pregnant wife.

She watched as various Fossoways, Eastermonts, Hightowers, Merryweathers, some minor Lannisters and even some Freys (whom she found repulsive) were introduced to her.

“Father, may I be excused?” Margaery asked as she felt tired.

“Where are you going?” her mother, Lady Alerie asked where she was seated at the other side of the Lord of Highgarden.

“I think I just need some fresh air.” Margaery said.

“Very well, you are excused.” her father told her. “…but come back soon, these young men are here to see you.” he added to which Margaery only nodded her head then she stood up. Her cousin Elinor followed her.

“Those Freys were ugly.” Elinor commented when they were out of earshot. Margaery laughed as she made her way towards the balcony that overlooked the courtyard and lush gardens below.

“I don’t understand why father must put me through all this.” Margaery sighed. “Why just don’t tell them that he already picked someone for me?”

“Maybe it has something to do with formalities.” her cousin offered as they both leaned against the railing and enjoy the fresh air and warm sunshine. “You’re very lucky, Lord Renly is handsome.”

“You mean pretty.” Margaery said and snorted which was unladylike but she didn’t care. “He wears shinier clothes than me.” she added and they both giggled.

“Yes. I noticed, he has a certain inclination to fancy stuff.” Elinor said.

“And did you notice how he looks at Loras?” Margaery asked and sighed. “It seems to me that he likes my brother more than me.”

Her cousin only shook her head. In the distance, they saw a small party approaching, no fewer than twenty men.

“And who are those?” Elinor asked. “Might be more of your suitors.”

“I don’t know.” Margaery said but strained her eyes to see clearer who the approaching visitors are. As far as she can tell, they’re wearing fur cloaks and flying a grey standard with an unclear sigil on it. As the riders drew nearer, she realized that the sigil was a direwolf. “Northmen.” Margaery whispered. She and her cousin stayed to wait and see the newcomers as they pass by. The great gates of the castle flung open and the small host rode in in two columns. One of them looked up and for a moment caught Margaery’s eyes. She immediately withdrew from the balcony.

“Let’s go back. My father might be asking for my presence instantly.” Margaery said and together with her cousin, they made their way back to the Great Hall. They arrived there just in time the doors of the hall swung open. Margaery went back to sit by her father.

A boy around her age led the newcomers, his unruly red hair stood out among the rest. _“He looks handsome.”_ Margaery thought as she shifted in her chair.

A herald stepped forward. “My Lord, My Lady” he addressed her parents. “May I present Lord Robb of House Stark, sent as an envoy by his father Lord Eddard, Lord of Winterfell and Warden in the North.” the introduction went and there were some whispering and giggles among the ladies which Margaery found quite irritating.

Margaery’s eyes were focused on the young Stark as he slightly bowed to her father but his eyes were on someone else. For a split second their gazes met once more.

“Welcome, Lord Stark.” Her father greeted. “We weren’t expecting of your arrival.” he smiled politely. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“My Lord, thank you for the hospitality.” Robb greeted and quirked his brow. “My Lord Father sent me to discuss some trade.” he said. Margaery couldn’t understand why she felt a little let down.

“Oh, that.” Lord Mace said. “I was expecting it was something else.” he added and gave Margaery a glance.

 _“Business. That’s what he’s here for.”_ Margaery thought but her eyes kept on lingering at Robb.

“Might we discuss this business over supper, young boy?” Lord Mace asked and Margaery noticed Robb hissed and mouthed a silent “I’m not a boy.” before he looked at her father again. “If My Lord wishes.” he said then bowed.

“We’re having a feast tonight.” Lady Alerie said. “Welcome to Highgarden and it would be our pleasure that you could join us here Lord Stark.”

Robb bowed again then stole a glance at Margaery. For some reason, the look made her heart beat faster than normal and she felt warm in her cheeks. She noticed that even Renly and Loras were staring interestingly at the young Stark too.

~

“Lord Robb is so handsome!” her cousin Alla exclaimed when they retired in the confines of her room.

“Yes.” Elinor agreed. “And those blue eyes… they were beautiful!” she added then giggled. Sweet little Megga just looked at them indifferently.

Margaery on the other hand was feeling troubled. She was intrigued by Robb Stark and the fact that he was there to discuss business and not something else… surely her Lord Father must’ve sent invitations all over the Seven Kingdoms for her betrothal.

“What do you think Margaery?” Alla asked and she was bought out of whatever daydream she was having.

“About what?” Margaery asked while her three cousins stared at her.

“About Lord Stark.” Elinor said.

“Oh.” Margaery started. “Well, he certainly looked interesting.” she stated. _“with his unruly red hair, beautiful and unnerving blue eyes, red lips and broad shoulders…”_ Her wayward thoughts went on but she never dared voice them. _“At a glance, he is more a man than Renly will ever be.”_ And by that train of thought, Margaery realized that she was seriously in trouble and infatuated with Robb Stark.


	7. Icy Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her first husband was the image of an ideal King, given he was at times well-dressed more than her and fancied her brother, sadly he died of mysterious circumstances without even bedding her. The second one was a monster that died on their very own wedding day, the third was a boy barely half her age and loves cats. Then looking at her future, all she saw was ice. No joy conveyed in his eyes, no warmth in his personality and a man of few words.

Margaery was raised to be a queen… not just a queen but The Queen. However, after three failed marriages to a series of Kings, she thought she was cursed. She had been a queen though, for at least a time until another queen landed on the shores of Westeros and took everything from her, except her life. Her House was pardoned of course since their forces surrendered without giving a fight - her father, no… Her grandmother thought it was the wiser course of action than being burned, certainly they don’t want another field of fire.

She was stripped of her crown though and her marriage was annulled. Highgarden still remained in the hands of her family. They retained their titles and lands - it seemed that the new queen had been generous to them compared to the Lannisters who were stripped of their status and wealth, most of the remaining members of their house fled in exile for fear of retribution. Cersei wasn’t so lucky though.

And then she thought that she was to return home to spend the remaining days of her life there or to remain on the capital to be a hostage of the court. However, the gods and the new queen have other plans for her. One afternoon while she was packing her things, a servant was sent to her chambers bearing summons from the Queen.

Queen Daenerys was sitting at the head of the Small Council table and was reading something on a piece of paper when Margaery was presented. Ser Barristan Selmy, the reinstated Lord Commander was standing beside the queen. “Your Grace.” she said then bowed. “You sent for me?”

Daenerys regarded her with interest and smiled. “Please take a seat, Lady Margaery.” she told her and indicated a vacant chair. “Do you know why you’re here?” the queen asked her.

“No, Your Grace.” Margaery replied and Daenerys smiled.

“Winter is already upon us.” The queen started. “I already informed your father of the City’s needs and he agreed to send whatever food and other provisions that he can spare.”

“The Reach is the most fertile of the Seven Kingdoms, Your Grace… surely there’s a lot that we can spare to aid the city.” Margaery said.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been told.” the queen said with a wry smile. “The harvest of the South will be much needed since we’re short on food supply and the Riverlands is still in the hands of the Starks. This Young Wolf as they call him is bold enough to make demands that I should grant the North its independence.”

“We can defeat them easily, Your Grace.” Ser Barristan said.

“Yes, I suppose.” Daenerys said. “But I grow weary of the killings and I rather choose to offer my generous terms, if they accept then there would be peace, if they won’t then I suppose we can’t avoid fire and blood.” she added then stared at Margaery. “And that’s where you come in.”

“Your Grace?” Margaery asked in confusion.

So it came to pass that she understood what the queen meant, she will grant the North its independence; in return the Riverlands will go back to the dominion of the Iron Throne. The King in the North will also marry someone from the South as part of the terms, and only Daenerys will choose that ‘someone.’

There was problem of course, the Young Wolf was already betrothed to one of Walder Frey’s daughters but Daenerys was adamant that they agree on all the terms or no terms at all. Perhaps it was also another ploy to show Westeros that the Starks are not so dedicated in upholding their honor. So, for the sake of peace and to end further bloodshed, they reached an agreement. The Riverlords grumbled at first but then perhaps the Targaryen queen would prove to be a capable ruler than her father. Walder Frey can go and sulk in his towers, after all Robb Stark is not so keen on marrying one of his many daughters.

“Let them enjoy their independence. I don’t dream of ruling the whole continent or the whole world.” Daenerys said. “And I thought you always wanted to be a queen? Now, your marriage to him will also keep those northerners on a leash. Also, this will test your loyalty to me. Remember, if you so much go out of line, your family will suffer.” She added with a mocking grin. “Just keep me well-informed.” she concluded before she strode out. So, she’s to be a spy for the queen.

Everything was arranged in accord to the new agreement. New borders were drawn, hostages and prisoners were exchanged and armies withdrew. Margaery had no choice on the matter of course. Her family was informed of her new betrothal. All her things were packed and after a week, her escorts arrived in the city. Fifty Northmen, flying the grey direwolf banners of House Stark were waiting for her as she came to the courtyard with Queen Daenerys. Her betrothed wasn’t one of the newcomers though. She hasn’t even seen him save the image she pictured in her mind. Her former friend Lady Sansa was beautiful so maybe he’s not so bad to look upon, she wondered and she also saw Lady Catelyn once.

“The next time that we meet, you’ll be a queen the same as I.” Daenerys told her before she climbed onto the wheelhouse that would take her to her new home. “Just remember everything that I told you… and perhaps, you’ll grow to like it up there.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Margaery replied but didn’t bow. One of the Northerners blew a horn and maybe that was the signal for them to depart. She also brought her cousin Elinor along with three of her former ladies-in-waiting and a score of Tyrell soldiers as her own personal bodyguard.

Margaery resented the North ever since she stepped foot on it that day they crossed the Neck. Everything she saw was dull compared to the bright colors and the chivalry of the South, particularly her home. Up here, it was cold and always will be… leagues of snow greeted her sight as they made their way to Winterfell. The North might be largest of the Seven Kingdoms but it doesn’t mean it’s the most populous too.

The people looked grim and their grey eyes stared at her with disinterest as they passed the occasional villages along the way. Men, women and their children were bundled in thick layers of fur as she stared out the window. The snowfall was relentless and she felt cold despite the thick cloaks she wore. They already lost three of her personal guards to the cold, one her ladies had fallen ill and Elinor is burning with fever. The northmen doesn’t seem to mind the cold and the snow though but they were kind enough to make sure she’s okay but aside from that, they seldom speak to her.

She was beginning to think that they won’t reach their destination, the road which was hardly visible seemed to go on forever and she’d lost count of how many days, weeks or even months maybe that they were travelling. But alas as she looked out the window of the wheelhouse, she saw a looming fortress on the horizon, its towers capped with snow.

The wheelhouse stopped and Margaery thought that they’re resting again so she opened the door and got out. She felt the cold as her feet touched the ground. One of the Northmen rode to her, a fat knight, covered up in layers of fur and a merman was sewn onto his tunic and painted on his shield. Ser Wendel Manderly of White Harbor as she came to know him.

“We are nearing Winterfell, My Lady.” he told her and out on the horizon she heard the sound of a horn and Margaery spied the gates opened and a column of horsemen were streaming out. “We’ll wait for them here.” Ser Wendel told her and she just nodded. She looked around and saw that her guards were shivering, two of them were still holding up a banner of House Tyrell dutifully. When the welcoming party neared, she saw that they were flying the different banners of the North and Margaery felt so out of place. Her own honor guard formed up on either side of her and her cousin and ladies descended the wheelhouse and stood beside her.

A large wolf was running along the man in the foremost of the party and on his right side, a lady wearing an armor was holding the banner of House Stark.

“Your Grace.” The Northmen that escorted her bowed when the welcoming party stopped a few paces from them. “May I present Lady Margaery of House Tyrell.” Ser Wendel said and gestured towards her.

“Your Grace.” Margaery greeted then bowed. When she looked up at him once more, he was already dismounting his horse and was walking towards her with the wolf at his side.

“Welcome to the Kingdom of the North, Lady Margaery.” the King said in his Northern accent. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.” he added with cold courtesy. Margaery can’t help but notice the absence of a crown on top of his auburn hair, damp with the falling snow.

“It was cold.” Margaery replied with the same iciness. Childish it may seem but deep down she was still sulking about her situation. The huge wolf just stared at her with menacing eyes so she looked away. The next thing she knows, the king was removing his own fur cloak and draped it around her shoulders. “You look so pale and fragile.” he said. “You might catch a cold.” Margaery might have taken it for concern but one look at his blue eyes, told her it was just an offhand comment or maybe a subtle insult. _“Didn’t they teach these Northeners how to treat a lady?”_ she wondered secretly.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” she said flatly. Then the King gestured to one of his guards and a white horse was presented to her.

“You shall ride by my side.” he said. “It would be nice for the people to see their future queen out in the open and not inside some wagon.” he added then helped her up to her mount before going back to his own horse.

Elinor and the other ladies went back inside the wheelhouse. The ride to Winterfell was spent in silence between the two of them. Instead, she just marveled at the granite walls that rose before her. When they entered the gate, people were lining up to see them and their cheers broke the silence. It was their King they cheered for but all she got were blank stares and stale smiles.

The household of the castle were waiting for them in the courtyard when they arrived. A stable boy helped her dismount and led her horse away.

“I present to you our guest, Lady Margaery of House Tyrell.” The King spoke as he stood beside her.

“This is my brother, Prince Brandon of House Stark.” The King introduced her to a crippled boy sitting on a chair and a wolf was sleeping by his feet. “That one is Prince Rickon.” he indicated to a younger boy who’s standing beside a black wolf. And the introduction went on and Margaery offered them feint smiles. She was a bit disappointed though, Lady Catelyn was not there and so was Sansa, she was looking forward to at least some familiar faces to greet her.

“Please see them to their rooms.” the King commanded one of the servants then left to go to gods know where and Margaery can only raise her brows.

“Welcome to Winterfell, Lady Margaery.” Prince Brandon said. “Robb’s off to the godswood. He won’t be back 'til later.”

The welcome feast for her was of course not what she expected. It was leagues different from the ones they have in Highgarden or in King’s Landing. Up here, there was less food, less singing and less people. No trappings on the halls, save for the banners of the Northern Houses that dotted the grey walls. And even the candlelight seemed dull to her eyes.

Her first husband was the image of an ideal King, given he was at times well-dressed more than her and fancied her brother, sadly he died of mysterious circumstances without even bedding her. The second one was a monster that died on their very own wedding day, the third was a boy barely half her age and loves cats. Then looking at her future, all she saw was ice. No joy conveyed in his eyes, no warmth in his personality and a man of few words.

She was seated next to the King on a raised dais as she looked on to the feast below.

“Might I inquire something, Your Grace?” Margaery asked just to break the silence.

“What is it?” The King asked in return, sparing her a glance.

“I can’t help but notice the absence of Lady Catelyn and Lady Sansa. Are they not around?” she asked.

“Mother has gone to the Vale to fetch Sansa, they’ll be here for the wedding.” he told her.

“Which is when exactly?” she asked feeling stupid that she didn’t even know the details of her own wedding.

The King smirked and said, “Five days hence.”

“Oh, I see.” Margaery mumbled.

“Were you not informed by your queen when she sent you here?” The King asked her in turn and that stung a little.

“No, Your Grace.” she replied bitterly. “Just so you know, I didn’t want this arrangement either but I have no choice on the matter.” she added angrily, well maybe she’s entitled to since her life just became a whirlwind, at one point she thought she had everything and then there’s this, she’s hurled into a situation that she has no control over and definitely not of her own choosing, it thrown her off balance. She thought she can manipulate Robb Stark just like he did to Joffrey but there’s just something in him she can’t quite place yet. “Now if you will excuse me, Your Grace.” She said and made a move to stand but the King’s hand stopped her by grabbing her wrist. She stared at him.

“You don’t like this arrangement you say? That’s hard to believe since I heard you have disposition towards Kings… Three as I recall. Well at least I can see you’re bold.” he told her. “Good, you’ll need it to survive here.” he added then loosened his hold on her wrist. “You are excused.” he said flatly then turned his attention back to his guests.

Margaery wanted to be alone and she wandered the halls without any direction in mind. She might get lost in the maze of halls and corridors but she didn’t care. She ended up on a balcony staring at the falling snow that was burying the remains of a garden below.

She hated the North and all its snow. She hated the people and their grey and blue eyes. She hated Robb Stark and his cold courtesies. And deep within her, she resolved to be as cold as the North. “If he’s going to treat me this way, so be it… he’ll see that roses have steel thorns and I’ll be his Ice Queen.” she told herself.


	8. A Hesitant Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is she doing here?” He thought. He was unnerved to be sitting next to her and he was annoyed that it looked like the spot was made to fit perfectly for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Icy Thorns

He was raised to be Lord of Winterfell and not a King but certain painful circumstances changed all that. The North is finally independent but at what cost? His father is dead. His best friend betrayed him and he also lost the Riverlands. And he was to marry a thrice widowed stranger. Her family claims that she’s still a maiden but he had his doubts. She might even be a spy for that Targaryen queen. But his hands were forced. He had chosen peace and agreed to the terms so why not make the most of it? He had to marry the girl, but that doesn’t mean he had to like her and he won’t give his trust again so easily.

Robb woke up alone in his chambers, the snowfall outside his tinted windows was still relentless and didn’t give any hint if it was early in the morning or late in the afternoon. “Time of day was always tricky to tell during winter.” his father once told him. He put on his best clothes as what is expected of him. He had to look kingly now because that’s what he is. He refused to wear the crown though, not yet… not until the ceremonies at least.

He have servants but he preferred to do everything on his own if he can since he’s young and capable. If you want people to follow you, you must set an example after all. When he emerged from his chambers, two of his Kingsguard were posted on either side of the door. He greeted them and then they went to the Great Hall to break their fast. It was still early but most of the people were already up. Bran was already at the table and Rickon was probably still abed. Maester Luwin was also there but no sign of Lady Margaery. His bannermen had already gone to their own homes and lands but promised to be back to attend to his wedding and coronation.

He instructed one of the servants to fetch Lady Margaery before they begin. Whatever she is, spy or not… he still had to offer her his hospitality. He even invited his guards to the table. Hallis Mollen, Wendel Manderly, Smalljon Umber, Robin Flint and Dacey Mormont all sat at the table. Grey Wind and Summer were sprawled out at the corner.

A while later the servant returned without Lady Margaery and Robb raised his brows.

“The Queen says that she prefers to eat in her room.” the servant informed him which illicited surprised looks from the people around.

“She’s not the queen yet.” Robb said. “Tell Lady Margaery that her presence is required and I command it.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” the servant said and hurried away then a while later he returned once again and that time, he’s bearing a piece of paper tied with a green bow.

“Lady Margaery refused and sends this message to you, Your Grace.” the servant said and handed him the paper nervously. Robb felt the anger rise to his face but he opened the paper anyway and read what was inside. “I thank you, Your Grace for the invitation but I much prefer to eat here in my room with my cousin. With all due respect I can enjoy the food with warmer company. I already instructed the servant to bring us food here after he delivers this message. -Queen Margaery” Robb was red faced after reading the message then turned to the poor servant. “Burn this and don’t obey her orders.” he said as he handed the paper back. The people around looked at him curiously but didn’t ask except for Bran.

“What is it Robb?” he asked. Only he and Rickon were allowed to call him by name for the meantime.

“Nothing that concerns you Bran. I just have to make sure that our guest knows her place.” he replied. “You may eat.” he gestured for everyone to start.

“But she’s going to be your queen right?” Bran asked again.

“That depends.” Robb whispered then stood up. Dacey Mormont and Robin Flint stood up too but he gestured for them to stay and eat.

“Where are you going?” Bran asked.

“To pay someone a visit.” The King replied.

It took a couple of minutes before he reached her chambers. The Tyrell guardsmen standing outside her door stared at him with huge eyes then bowed.

“Tell your lady that a servant is here with the food.” he commanded. The guardsman looked confused but obeyed.

“Lady Margaery, a servant is here with the food.” The guardsman said then knocked. It wasn’t long before the door opened.

“Well that was…” Margaery’s surprised face greeted him. “…easy.” she finished. She was still wearing her night shift.

“I don’t like disobedience very much, my Lady.” Robb said coldly, barely concealing his anger. “I commanded you join us.”

“Well, I refused and told you the reason. I am not your servant to be commanded but your guest… and your future queen if I recall, Your Grace” Margaery said flatly and gave him a sly smile.

“You do realize that we are not married yet, so don’t act like you’re the queen here and even so, you’re forgetting I’m the King and you will obey my orders or you can starve here in your room.”

“And what would your Northern honor say to that? Letting a noble lady starve to death?” Robb’s face was now all red and his stare, intense.

“Well, you can personally cook your own food then.” Robb said. “None of your men and ladies are allowed to go to the kitchen to cook for you.”

Margaery looked like she wanted to say something but decided against it. Instead they just stared angrily at each other until Robb turned and walked away. “I’ll be waiting and we will talk about your insolence, you are not in the South anymore.” And with that he returned to the Great Hall thinking about what just happened. He acted like a child. Perhaps they both did. But that’s what they are, young children forced to play an adult part. Robb didn’t quite understood it. He seemed to have this sudden aggression towards the poor lady. Maybe because he was forced to marry her to honor the peace terms. He also suspects that she’s a spy because why would Queen Daenerys insist on it? Or maybe because he offered a nice gesture and she turned it down?

He sat at the table and waited. Bran was done eating and was excused to go back to his room, Rickon just arrived with his black wolf, Shaggydog. His Kingsguard were posted on each door, save for Dacey who was standing behind his chair. Another minute passed and Lady Margaery entered the hall along with her cousin. Both ladies were already dressed properly.

Margaery gave him a blank stare and sat at the other end of the table. They glared at each other first before they ate. They spent the meal in silence and after they were done, Robb stood up and walked over to her. She gasped when Grey Wind bounded over and growled.

“You shouldn’t start battles you can’t win, My Lady.” he said and was about to walk away but Margaery nervously replied, “The same goes for you, Your Grace.”

Robb smiled secretly then continued on his way to the audience chamber where several of his subjects were waiting to air their concerns and grievances. Maester Luwin joined him to offer his own counsel.

Since becoming King and settling back to Winterfell, he found it tedious running his Kingdom, he was forced to listen to every problem concerning land disputes, the harvests, petty crimes or to lesser lords seeking his favor or his own bannermen seeking aid to rebuild their own castles and lands that were affected during the war. The biggest problem though is that their stores won’t last them through the winter, some crops were already frozen due to the shortage of men to harvest them and a large portion of the able bodied northmen had died during the war.

After settling a dispute between two elderly farmers regarding the ownership of livestock, he called for the next person and was surprised when Lady Margaery entered the audience chamber and settled on an empty chair next to him without a word. Those who were around just stared at her but said nothing or others ignored her entirely. However, Robb was irritated. _“What is she doing here?”_ He thought. He was unnerved to be sitting next to her and he was annoyed that it looked like the spot was made to fit perfectly for her. He huffed and called in for the next person again. They spent the entire morning listening to the common folk’s concerns. Lady Margaery just sat there beside him without saying anything but rather listening intently.

His mother and sister arrived late in the afternoon with a score of escorts led by Ser Rodrick. Robb was glad to see his mother again but he was overjoyed when he saw Sansa for the first time in a long while. He welcomed his sister with a tight hug. Sansa had grown taller and more striking during her time away but he can still sense that she hasn’t quite healed yet from her ordeals. Lady Catelyn hugged and kissed her younger sons. There’s still no news of Arya.

Then came Lady Margaery. Lady Catelyn exchanged pleasantries with her but Sansa gave her a glad embrace like they were close friends.

“Lady Margaery! It’s so nice to see you again.” his sister then gave him a sidelong glance. “I heard about the news.” she added in a much more reserved manner.

“I am glad to see you again, Lady Sansa.” Margaery replied. “Or should I say, Princess Sansa.” she corrected.

“Well, I suppose…” Sansa said and gave Robb another glance. “And I heard, you’re to be my brother’s queen?” she asked and Margaery and Robb stared at each other coldly.

Robb cleared his throat then said, “Come let us go inside.” He left, followed by Ser Wendel and Grey Wind.

Robb spent the next day overseeing the repairs of the castle or in counsel with Lady Catelyn, Maester Luwin and some of the Northern Lords that arrived to attend his upcoming wedding. He had many decisions to make, including appointing members of his own small council.

Lady Margaery spent most of her time with Sansa, talking and making their own preparations for the wedding. Robb was thankful for that but it seemed his betrothed found an ally in his sister when Sansa approach him the day before his wedding.

“I hope that you’ll grow to like her, Robb.” Sansa told him. “She’d been a great friend to me and she says that you hate her… I can see no fault in Lady Margaery.”

Robb sighed and thought that his sister can be so naive sometimes. “It’s not that I hate her Sansa, I just don’t trust her.” he said. “Marrying her was part of the peace treaty and I bet she’s a spy of the Iron Throne, so be careful. If I have my way, I will marry someone of my own choosing plus she’s stubborn and insolent.”

“But you agreed to the terms right? So you must honor it.” Sansa replied sensibly - it seemed she’s not so naive anymore.

“I only agreed because my men are already tired of fighting and I don’t want to have more blood on my hands, more importantly, I agreed so that you can come back safely to us. Besides Daenerys’ offer was surprisingly generous enough.” Robb explained. “But I guess, it will eventually come at a bigger price.” he added thoughtfully.

“But I still hope you can find it in you to like her somehow” Sansa pleaded. “I don’t want her to become another Queen Cersei, stuck in a loveless marriage.”

Robb shook his head. “Sansa, I thank you for your concern but leave me to my own counsel.” he said rather coldly then left to go to the godswood where he spent most of his alone time.

Their wedding was a quick affair. Both he and Margaery walked down on a cleared stony path that lead to the godswood. He was dressed in the colors of House Stark, grey and white and for once Robb thought he looked regal… his Tully curls were neatly combed and trimmed and his face was clean-shaven. Margaery on the other hand was wearing the colors of her own House, a green gown lined with gold, embroidered with roses and her brown hair, was braided with flowers.

They exchange their vows under the watchful eyes of the weirwood tree and the falling snow. The words and customs were foreign to Margaery but she played her part dutifully with the help of Lady Catelyn and Princess Sansa.

After Robb removed Margaery’s cloak and draped over her shoulders the colors of House Stark, he brought her into his protection. The ceremony was solemn and they looked at each other with stony faces. Only when they were forced to share a timid and chaste kiss, the people around them cheered.

Robb donned his crown wrought of iron, the same crown from the forges of Riverrun when he was proclaimed the King in the North. For Margaery, he had the smiths fashion a simple iron circlet studded with various gems.

Margaery knelt and King Robb laid the circlet on her head. He offered his hand to her, without saying a word. Margaery took it and when she stood, Robb announce in a clear voice, “I give you Margaery Stark, Lady of Winterfell and Queen in the North!” peopled cheered again and then Greatjon, ever the loudest of the Northern Lords shouted, “The King and Queen of the North!” The three direwolves let a chorus of howl and the people cheered louder. “Stark! Stark! Winterfell!”

The wedding feast was grander, The Northern Lords were dressed in their finery and the Manderlys brought additional food with them and some jugglers and other entertainment. Lady Maege also had a gift for the new queen, an iron scepter and new cloaks made from bear skins. The Greatjon wished them well and told them he’ll pray for lots of healthy and strong heirs for the North.

Jon Snow, the new Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch made it to the feast along with one of his sworn brother who looked as fat as one of the Manderlys. And as expected, Lady Catelyn frowned by his presence. Robb, Bran and Rickon were glad to see him but Sansa was indifferent. One by one, the Northern Lords swore their fealty to the King and Queen and offered them gifts and wished them well. The King and Queen welcomed them all to the feast and on that night, Winterfell came alive.

But despite the sudden warmth of the Great Hall, everything was still cold between the two crowned people seating on the raised dais. Aside from small comments and stares, they remained quiet. Robb also felt incomplete because his father was not there and so was his other sister Arya. He glanced sideways and spied a glistening tear on Margaery’s eyes. He cleared his throat then whispered, “Are you alright?” He still can’t decide what to call her so he settled for that.

“Yes, Your Grace.” she replied then turned away.

“Well, you can tell me if there’s a problem.” Robb said. “Maybe I can do something.”

“Just missing some few people.” Margaery murmured. And Robb felt sympathy for a moment. Her family wasn’t able to attend and she might be feeling alone.

“I’m sorry.” Robb whispered back. “Maybe your family can visit you here when winter passes or they can come anytime, they’re welcome here.”

There was music and some of the younger visitors danced while the elderly were contented to watch and converse. Many times, Margaery was approached to dance but she declined respectfully and offered them a smile instead. Sansa on the other hand, was spinning around the hall, dancing with a variety of partners.

“Would you like to dance?” Robb asked to break the awkwardness between the two of them. “Granted, I’m not a great dancer but I can try.”

Margaery stared back at him, surprised. Then she smirked and offered her hand. “Just try not to step on my toes.” she said as Robb led her to the middle of the hall. The music played louder but the other dancers stepped aside to give them space.

They fumbled through the process at first but then they eventually settled to a slow rhythm as they swayed about the room, Robb managed not to step on Margaery’s toes after all. And when were tired, they went back to their seats and watched as the feast continued.

Lady Catelyn approached them and gave them her blessings and to wish them well. She hugged her son and then Margaery and said, “Welcome to the family, My Queen.”

“I am your good-daughter now Lady Catelyn, no need to address me by my title, you can call me Margaery.” the younger lady replied then smiled. Lady Catelyn hugged her once again and then kissed her cheek.

Grey Wind also bounded over to congratulate them in his own way. When the direwolf approached though Margaery let out a little shriek in alarm but Grey Wind just nudged her leg with his snout then went to lie down on his master’s feet.

The feast lasted well into the night and then came the call for the bedding ceremony. Margaery immediately paled and Robb on the other hand, turned redder than his Tully hair. They shared an uncomfortable look but then their eager guests were already approaching them.

It was mere moments later that they found themselves in their new Royal Chambers, both naked as their nameday and they tried to cover themselves up, both reached for the same sheet on the bed for modesty which made the affair a lot more awkward and embarrassing.

“Well, I suppose this works better without the clothes on.” Robb said through his red face. Margaery turned away. “Don’t be shy now, you’re much more experienced at this.”

“Believe what you will, but I’m new to this as much as you.” Margaery replied, clutching the sheet. “Despite the filthy rumors, this is my first time too.” She can’t quite understand why she felt the need to explain something.

Robb quirked his brows and looked away. “So, how should we do this?” he murmured, more embarrassed. Of course they know what to do but they just found themselves in an awkward situation; they’ve gotten on the wrong foot the first time they met and both were particularly not fond of each other and then they were expected to do this. Robb came closer and Margaery flinched. He had to wonder if she’s just acting or it was genuine. He took another step and she stayed still, waiting… with a flushed face.

Robb leaned down but Margaery shifted so he ended up kissing her nose instead. They stepped back from each other and then sighed but Margaery was trying desperately to contain an embarrassed smile.

“Ummm…” Robb trailed off.

“Oh just shut up and kiss me.” Margaery blurted out “Your bannermen will be expecting…” she wasn’t allowed to finish her sentence because with one quick motion, her words were silenced by his lips and she tensed for a moment, without kissing him back but she gradually relaxed and responded in kind. The sheets she was holding fell to the floor, and both of them - into the bed.


End file.
